


One Day

by mean_whale



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Future, Anal Sex, Angry Keith (Voltron), Angst, But also, Crying, Divorce, Emotional Sex, Galra Keith (Voltron), Heartbreak, Hopeful Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Marriage, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Overstimulation, Post-Canon, Rough Sex, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Unrequited Love, gentle keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-09-29 06:45:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17198519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mean_whale/pseuds/mean_whale
Summary: Shiro tries his best to navigate through life and relationships, but can't help feeling like he was never meant to be happy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Joltikon](https://twitter.com/joltikon/status/1073600058095034369)

The reception had been a success, and Shiro couldn’t have been happier. All his most important friends were celebrating the love between him and his boyfriend – no, his husband, and his heart was full of joy. Hearing everyone’s sincere congratulations, standing by Curtis as his husband now, nothing could have been better.

Except.

He had been looking around ever since the ceremony ended, first unconsciously, but after he had realised what he was doing, he had doubled his effort.

And finally, his eyes landed on the one figure he had wanted to see.

Keith was standing aside with Krolia, who was discreetly glaring towards Shiro between words. Keith had his arms crossed and shoulders hunched. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but Shiro had thought that Keith had grown mostly past it, had grown more confident in himself, not so distressed by these types of events anymore. He hurriedly made his way towards both Keith and Krolia before he even realised.

“We’re leaving now,” he heard Krolia say and blinked in surprise.

“Wait,” he said and took a couple of running steps to reach them faster. “Where are you going already? I wanted you to meet–.”

“No,” Keith cut him short.

Shiro stopped and tried to process the word. Keith held his head down, the parts of his hair that had escaped his ponytail were hanging over his face.

“But–,” he started to say, but was, once again, cut short by Keith.

“As if you even wanted me here,” Keith said, voice breaking.

He lifted his head, and his face was the most devastating sight Shiro had ever seen: tears were rolling down his reddened cheeks and his lips were wobbling. But in his eyes, he held a fire unlike anything Shiro had ever seen, and he didn’t know what it meant. He immediately knew it was something he should know, something he should figure out this instant or everything would fall apart.

“There’s no need to pretend anymore!” Keith added with more heat, voice thick but clear.

“I–,” Shiro started, but Keith turned away.

Krolia looked at him, not exactly unfriendly but there was none of the usual warmth there. She placed a hand over Keith’s shoulder, and together they walked away.

Shiro looked at their backs, mouth still open but voice dead in his throat.

He didn’t understand what had happened.

Keith’s back looked narrower in his black suit. His ponytail covered most of his nape, the loose hair swaying around his head as he walked.

“Oh, Keith’s leaving already?”

Lance’s voice surprised Shiro and he jumped slightly. Lance glanced at him and pat his shoulder in apology.

“It’s really no wonder,” Lance said after a short silence. “No matter how hard he tries to be happy for you, you still basically broke his heart.”

“What?” Shiro asked, the disbelief making his voice small.

“Yeah,” Lance continued, probably having not even noticed Shiro’s bewilderment. “Now that I think about it, he did seem rather crushed at the ceremony. I don’t blame him for not wanting to stay. You shouldn’t either, you know. I’m sure he just needs a bit more time.”

“For what?”

Shiro was staring at the corner that had hidden Keith from his sight. He wanted to see Keith again, needed to see him again to understand what Lance was saying.

“You know,” Lance said and gestured around, as if it would make Shiro understand what was going on. “Being so in love with you and seeing you marry another man. I’m sure he’ll get over it eventually now that it’s… it’s so real. Official.”

“But,” Shiro said, his head suddenly too full of thoughts to make any sense of them. “He loves me as a brother?”

Lance snorted.

“Is that what he said?” he asked, then clasped a hand over his mouth. “Oh, shit. If he said that, then I shouldn’t have said anything! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I’m sure… I’m sure that eventually he will get over the pain and… and act as your brother again?”

Shiro finally turned to look at Lance and gave him a small smile to appease the self-deprecating horror that had appeared on his face.

“Yes,” he said, keeping his voice even, although he was still confused by the turn of events. “I guess I should have talked to him a bit more about that.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance offered again. “I’m sure he wanted you to enjoy your wedding day without having to think about his feelings.”

“It’s alright,” Shiro said. “It’s alright.”

It was.

Everything was alright.

He was alright.

Fine.

Better than fine.

He put on a brave smile and returned to Curtis, returned to the party and pushed away every lingering thought of Keith. He had made a good choice. His life was good now.

He was good now.

The evening found him slumping on a chair in an empty room. He could hear the party outside, but it was a distant hum compared to how loud his thoughts were, how loud his heart was beating. How much he didn’t deserve to feel like something good had been crushed.

 _You’re my brother_.

He knew that’s what Keith had said. He knew it was a real memory. He knew that once he had found that memory, it had broken the hope he had been carrying with him. Maybe he hadn’t realised it until that moment, but it suddenly seemed so obvious to him: that he was in love with Keith. He was so deeply in love with Keith, who saw him as a brother.

Maybe his love was brotherly too, he had thought. He had worked to bend it that way. Keith is your brother, he told himself over and over, yet he would still find himself watching Keith’s lips as he talked, wondering what it would be like to lean over and kiss him. He wanted to reach out and hold his hand, feel those slender fingers between his own. Would Keith’s hands be soft or calloused? Would they be warm or cold against his skin? Would Keith recoil from his scarred body or embrace it with care?

Because he couldn’t stop thinking those thoughts, his only option had been to pull away. He had tried to be discreet about it, do it gently, and he had thought he had managed because Keith never brought it up.

In fact, when was the last time he had properly talked to Keith?

How had he expected Keith to bring it up if they never talked?

Maybe he had unconsciously made an effort to stop that from happening. Telling Keith about his feelings would have destroyed the trust between them, so it was better to leave it unsaid, let it linger between them until it would shrink into something more appropriate.

But Keith had loved him the same?

Shiro’s left had was shaking. He turned to stare at it as if it had betrayed him. And it had. He had no reason to be shaky. Nothing that warranted such a reaction had happened.

_Keith loves you._

He groaned and let his head hang as low as it would go. The stretch felt good on his neck and shoulders. His thoughts were too heavy, and he was starting to wish that he could turn back time just enough to stop Lance from telling him the secret that Keith had been harbouring for who knows how long.

Why hadn’t Keith told him?

He wanted to ask. He wanted an explanation, yet he knew he hadn’t deserved one. He hadn’t told Keith either, he hadn’t dared to do that after remembering everything.

_I love you._

Keith had said that.

Keith had told him, he just didn’t understand it because it had followed the idea of brotherhood.

Shiro shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about Keith. He had married Curtis because he loved Curtis. And Curtis loved him. They made a good couple. Excellent couple, even.

But Curtis didn’t know him like Keith did.

Curtis was important to him.

Wasn’t Keith more important?

“I love Curtis,” Shiro told himself out loud.

His voice sounded hollow in the empty room, as if the room disagreed with him. And he had to admit that no matter how much he did love Curtis, he would always love Keith in a way that could not be challenged by anyone. What he felt for Keith had been brewing for so many years, it had been tested by their time in space, their bond had been proven by such difficulties that the average human couldn’t even imagine going through that.

He had thought about it, sometimes; what Keith would say to him, would Keith be scared and pull away, if he confessed. Every time they went to a new battle, it could have been their last. Every time he watched Keith in the black lion he thought about how much he wanted to be able to tell him that his love ran deeper than Keith would ever expect.

And his clone’s memories, they swirled around like tendrils of smoke, gathering around his own memories, as if he had been in two places at once at a certain point in his life. Those memories were warm about Keith, they were so sincere in the way he could still feel his heart swell when he remembered Keith looking at him.

He had thrown all that away just because he was a coward. He had wanted to keep Keith to himself, and in order to do that he had managed to sever the connection they had always had. He had destroyed the most delicate parts of their relationship, and Keith’s trust in him was gone. Keith’s happiness around him was gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Keith smile.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Keith before the wedding.

He could certainly see why Keith imagined that he didn’t want there to be a connection between them. Keith must have thought that the wedding invitation was a courtesy to an old friend who used to be important, who used to be in the centre of his thoughts for a period of time. Who had saved his life. Who had been his life.

The sting of tears didn’t have time to warn him before his vision was already swimming. He had thought that Curtis had taken away the sharpest edges of his broken heart over his forbidden love, but he could now see how wrong he had been. Nobody could replace Keith in his heart, and because Shiro was so pathetic, he had tried to do that rather than ask Keith to love him back.

He could have married Keith.

Keith could have been his groom.

This could be Keith and his wedding.

The door opened, and Shiro didn’t want to raise his head because his eyes were too wet, probably red too. He had made such a stupid mistake.

“Takashi?” Curtis asked from the door before he stepped in and closed the party outside.

Shiro tried to breathe evenly but couldn’t. His shoulders shook with silent sobs.

There was a warm hand on his shoulder. He could barely see Curtis’ shoes, everything blurred by the tears he didn’t want to shed. Curtis crouched down to look at his face.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and his voice was so gentle and loving, so caring that it broke Shiro’s heart.

He couldn’t be in love with another man when he had such a good husband.

“Just,” he started to say but his voice broke.

Curtis placed a hand on Shiro’s knee. It was warm, reassuring. It told him that he wasn’t alone.

Shiro cleared his throat.

“Got some,” he said, then paused for a moment to think. “Some bad news.”

Curtis was slowly stroking Shiro’s knee with his warm hand.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Curtis said.

Shiro shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Don’t… I’m sorry for sulking here on our wedding day.”

He lifted his head to properly look at Curtis who was no longer blurry. He felt tear tracks on his cheeks and Curtis reached up to wipe them dry.

“It’s alright,” Curtis said. “It’s not your fault.”

Except it was.

It pained him to think how gentle Curtis was with him while he was pining after someone else. He didn’t deserve such a good husband.

He didn’t deserve Keith either.

He didn’t deserve anything good.

How had he messed up so bad?

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Curtis asked.

Shiro wanted to say no and send Curtis back to their guests. He needed to say no and stay alone until he had cleared his head of anything Keith.

Instead he nodded, the smallest move of his head.

Curtis stood up and sat down on the chair next to Shiro’s. He took a hold of Shiro’s left hand with both his hands.

“You know if you want to talk, I’ll listen,” Curtis said.

He had always known to say that. He had learned how hard it was for Shiro to open up about the bad things. He was a good husband.

 _One day I’m going to break his gentle heart_ , he thought, knew that it was inevitable.

Except it wasn’t. It didn’t have to happen.

Shiro leaned against Curtis’ side, head on his shoulder. Curtis was stroking Shiro’s ring with his thumb.

“I’ll be fine,” Shiro said.

He told it to himself.

_I’ll be fine._

Maybe Keith would never want to have anything to do with him. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe he would have to live his entire life without ever seeing Keith again to make sure that his heart stayed with his husband like it was supposed to.

Maybe one day Keith would return, both their feelings cooled down.

Maybe one day his heart wouldn’t ache.

One day he would stop comparing his husband to Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sad so I wrote sad. Then I wasn't quite as sad but editing this made me sad again.
> 
> I did originally plan to continue this, but then I got insecure and now I don't know what to do, so. At least for now this is it, but I might revisit maybe at some point if I feel better about it.
> 
> [mastodon](https://fandom.ink/@mean_whale) \- [writing list](https://mean-whale.dreamwidth.org/557.html)
> 
> [personal twitter](https://twitter.com/mean_whale) \- [linktree](https://linktr.ee/rtilhi)
> 
> ETA: I'm now officially writing two more chapters to this. I have no idea when they'll be done but I'm thinking about them very hard.


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro’s conversation with Hunk came to an abrupt halt the moment he spotted Keith.

He hadn't seen Keith since the wedding over two years ago, had managed to convince himself that he was over Keith, he was now free of the shame that had plagued him all throughout his marriage to Curtis and even after that. And it only took one glance at Keith for his delusion to crumble.

Keith looked good. His hair had grown, and he wore it in a long braid hanging over his shoulder. He was wearing a dark leather jacket over a black t-shirt, skinny jeans hugging his muscular thighs. He was the same Keith he had always been, just more adult, a more refined version of himself. Yet he still wore the same gloves – or at least similar.

The thing that next drew Shiro's attention was that Keith hadn't arrived alone. By his side stood a tall muscular Galra who had big furry ears and a gentle face, the look in his yellow eyes slightly nervous. And he had a big hand resting on Keith's shoulder. And Keith was happily leaning into the touch.

“This is my boyfriend, Khet,” Keith said.

The Galra, Khet, fit right in to the group. After an initial discussion with him, Shiro watched him from the side-lines. His own empty ring finger felt cold. He watched Khet’s ears, how they shifted with the conversations he was having. Khet seemed genuine in everything. His eyes would wander at times, stop on Keith, and his ears would twitch a certain way.

It was easier to look at Khet than Keith. Khet and Keith. Even their names went together.

Shiro sighed. He wished he could get trashed without embarrassing himself. He wished he still had a husband to lean on. He wished that he had come up with an excuse good enough to ditch his friends on the one day of the year when they all took time to get together.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said, suddenly standing right next to him.

Shiro jumped, tore his eyes off Khet, who was having an intense discussion with both Lance and Coran. He looked up to Keith, and it felt right. Keith had grown into a better man than he had ever been. It was right for him to look up, because Keith was still the sun in his life, and when Keith was gone, so was the warmth.

“Keith,” he said, and his smile was genuine. “It’s been quite a while.”

Keith hummed, and the corner of his lips curled up. He sat down next to Shiro.

“Where’s your plus one?” Keith asked.

Shiro swallowed, forcing down the cold lump that had been crawling up his throat. He lifted up his hand to show Keith the missing ring.

“I no longer have anyone,” he said.

“Oh.”

Silence settled over them. Shiro turned his eyes to his own knee. The fabric of his trousers was getting worn. The sun exposed all the flaws in the fabric. Just like Keith exposed all the flaws in him. Keith was too bright, too good.

“How long have you and Khet, uh…” Shiro stumbled over his words, felt his ears burning hot.

“Close to a year now,” Keith said.

Shiro nodded.

“I got divorced over a year ago,” he said, couldn’t stop the bitterness from seeping into his voice.

Keith stayed quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” he said then.

“Curtis was too good for me,” Shiro said.

It was the truth. Curtis had been so good, and Shiro had done everything he could to not break his heart. He never wanted to break another heart again. He had already had to watch it on Adam’s face, on Keith’s face. He never wanted to see it again. He didn’t want to be the source of such pain.

He thought of the patient smile on Curtis’ face when they had sat down, and Curtis had told him it wasn’t working out, it wasn’t fair for either of them to drag along that excuse of a marriage when clearly neither of them was in it with all their heart. He knew that Curtis meant that Shiro wasn’t in it, that Shiro was the one whose thoughts were scattered between wanting to forget Keith and wanting to embrace him. That Shiro was the one who spent increasingly long away from their shared home, having run out of excuses many months earlier.

“No one is too good for you,” Keith said.

Shiro finally looked at him. Up close Keith was even more beautiful.

“You just have to accept that you deserve good things,” Keith said.

Keith had pierced his ears.

“Huh,” was all Shiro could get out.

Keith turned to look towards Khet. Shiro couldn’t take his eyes off Keith. Keith's hair was thick, and the sun gave it a healthy glow. His profile was as sharp as ever, but the edges weren't as harsh; Keith had grown into himself. He looked happy.

Shiro hated himself in that moment, hated how bitterness arose from its deep sleep where he had managed to force it two years before. It sank its claws into him and he knew that he couldn't shake it off, it would take months of purposefully lifting every single claw, one by one, avoiding any thoughts of Keith's calmness on this sunny afternoon, start over each time he remembered the small curl of Keith's lips as he watched Khet talk to his friends.

 _What have you become_ , he asked himself for the first time since his divorce.

The once great captain of Atlas, former leader of Voltron, could not hold a marriage for even a year, could not keep his best friend in his life, could only pull away and destroy ever relationship he had ever had.

Keith turned to look at him, and he was too slow to turn his eyes away, already too late as their gazes met.

Keith's eyes were still the same. They were the familiar stretch of a night sky, stars littered across their storms, they were the one galaxy he could never reach, and the sun made them blink into purple. Keith looked at him with the same openness he had once known, and there was a new kind of calm, something soothing the storms that used to lurk just below the surface.

His heart felt raw, an open wound in his chest, a reminder of all the mistakes he made in his quest to keep a hold on Keith, of what he could have had if he had been more: more courageous, more of a man, more, more, he needed to be more than what he was or would ever be.

Keith deserved someone who was more than just enough.

Keith maybe needed this connection to his Galra side, experiencing life away from Earth where he had no good memories left. Maybe he needed this connection to his mother's heritage.

Keith had grown confident in himself, and it was something Shiro knew he could have never helped with.

Maybe it had all been worth the pain, the tears, seeing Keith crumble and go. Maybe they were meant to grow apart, only coming together like this, as acquaintances rather than friends.

I'm sorry I hurt you, Shiro wanted to say, but his lips wouldn't move. Keith could probably see it in his eyes. He hoped that Keith still knew how to read him.

_I still love you._

Keith looked away, back at Khet.

"It was good to see you again, Shiro," he said.

Keith crossed his arms.

He was cutting Shiro out.

Keith stood up and headed towards his boyfriend.

"I missed you," Shiro said.

He couldn't tell if Keith had heard it.

One day, he decided, he would tell Keith face to face, not like this.

One day he would be brave.

One day he would not yearn for Keith, who was in a happy relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't started writing the last chapter yet, but at least I know what I want to happen in it so that's something.


	3. Chapter 3

One day, Shiro was sitting alone. The bar was quiet, which indicated to him that it must have still been early. He had arrived on the planet at some point within the past 24 hours and was still disoriented. It didn't really matter to him. He was seated at the bar, nursing a drink of something that spread warmth down his throat. He scratched his stubbly chin. He hadn't bothered to shave after waking up.

He finished his drink and was debating the pros and cons of getting plastered on an alien planet, when the door behind him opened. The barkeeper perked up, apparently recognising the newcomer.

“What can I get you today, Black Paladin?” the barkeeper asked with enthusiasm.

Shiro jolted and turned to look to his left. It had been a couple of years, but he was certain he would always recognise Keith, no matter how unlikely it was for them to end up on the same planet and in the same bar at the same time.

“Keith?”

Keith sharply turned his head, eyes widening with recognition, then darkening with a feeling Shiro couldn't decipher.

“Oh, fuck no,” Keith blurted out, turned on his heels and was out the door before Shiro was over his surprise.

He blinked, then shot out of his chair.

“Keith!”

He stumbled to the door, looked around in almost a panic, but spotted Keith before he had disappeared behind the corner. Shiro ran, turned the corner and saw Keith powerwalking away.

“Keith! Wait!” he yelled, but it made no difference other than speeding Keith up.

What had he expected?

He ran until he could just reach out and grab Keith's arm, pulling him to a stop.

“Keith,” he said.

“Shiro,” Keith replied, but didn't look at him.

“Why did you run?” Shiro asked.

“I wasn't running,” Keith said.

Technically, he hadn't been.

Shiro shook his head to focus.

“You swore when you saw me,” he pointed out.

“Can we not do this here?” Keith hissed, as if someone was listening.

Shiro looked around. The street they were on was mostly empty, and no one seemed to be paying attention to them.

“Okay,” Shiro said slowly. “I have a hotel room?”

“I have an apartment,” Keith said.

He started walking, with Shiro still holding on to his arm, so Shiro followed. He let go of Keith's arm, although reluctantly. Keith had gotten more muscular and feeling his bicep had been close to a religious experience. He tried to focus on simply following Keith, not letting his eyes wander down the slim yet strong back, down to Keith's perky ass that was filling out his pants so well…

Shiro snapped his head up and fixed his eyes on Keith's head.

Keith led them to a nice-looking building, all the way up to the second to last floor. There were three doors in the hallway. Shiro followed Keith through a door that had “Keith” written on it in oddly blocky letters.

The moment the door closed behind them, Keith turned to glare at Shiro.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice more hostile than Shiro expected to deserve.

“I,” Shiro stammered, “just wanted to talk?”

Keith sneered and crossed his arms tightly.

“How did you find me?” he asked. “Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“No!” Shiro yelled louder than intended, surprising both Keith and himself. “No, I’m not. I didn’t know you would be here. I’m on vacation.”

Keith looked at him from head to toe, something hostile on his face.

“So you’re saying,” he said slowly, “that you being on the same damn planet this far away from Earth in the bar I frequent is a coincidence?”

He lifted his eyebrow in suspicion. Shiro laughed nervously.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he said again.

Keith didn’t say anything but was still watching. For some mad reason Shiro felt like he should stay as still as he possibly could, as if Keith was a predator and he was the prey and even the tiniest movement could set off something feral in Keith. He slowly tried to cross his arms, belatedly remembering that his right arm wasn’t there, and ended up holding his left arm over his chest awkwardly. The silence between them quickly stretched to the snapping point, both of them eerily still right beside Keith’s apartment door.

Then Keith huffed and let his arms drop.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he asked, something defeated in his voice.

Before Shiro had time to question it, Keith was on him, lips on his lips and hands in his hair, on his nape, pulling him closer, a hold so strong it was impossible to get away.

Not that Shiro wanted to get away.

He didn’t even think before he was kissing Keith back, their lips mashed together almost painfully hard. He placed his hand on Keith’s lower back and pulled him against himself, their bodies against one another like he had always dreamed of.

“Keith,” he gasped into the kiss when Keith pulled back just enough to bite on Shiro’s lower lip.

“Shut up,” Keith said, frantic and gravelly, and the voice went straight to Shiro’s dick.

Keith was pulling him, their lips together again, Keith’s tongue in Shiro’s mouth, and Shiro was barely aware of how they were on their way somewhere. Keith slammed him against a wall, pushed into his space and took his breath away, then pulled him along again. Shiro’s knees were weak and he wished that he had his right arm with him. He wanted to touch Keith more, he wanted to spread his hands over Keith’s back and see if it was still as small as it used to be, in spite of Keith having grown. He wanted to encase Keith with himself or be drowned in Keith forever.

Keith broke the kiss to pull Shiro’s shirt off, and Shiro wasn’t much help, his arm suddenly awkward and feeling like it was everywhere at once. Keith then pushed him back until he met a bed with the backs of his knees and went down. He tried to pull Keith with himself, but Keith wouldn’t budge, too busy ridding himself of his shirt and jeans. Shiro watched, finally getting to see Keith in all his glory, the scars littering his skin, the trail of coarse hair running down from his navel and into his underwear, his nipples already erect and…

“Is that a piercing?” Shiro asked, throat suddenly dry as he looked at the flash of silver on Keith’s left nipple.

Keith looked down with a small frown, then nodded.

“Stop talking,” he said.

Shiro couldn’t do much else because Keith was climbing onto the bed, legs spread over his lap and mouth over Shiro’s lips, tongue moving in ways that Shiro wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. He didn’t know if it was simply his lack of physical contact over the past year or that Keith had turned into some sort of sex god, and he did not care. He pulled Keith as close to himself as he possibly could, sliding his hand down to cup Keith’s tight ass. Keith moaned into the kiss and rolled his hips against Shiro’s growing erection.

“Keith, I want you,” Shiro mumbled against Keith's mouth.

“Don't speak,” Keith said, but the words lacked their previous venom, followed by a grunt as Keith rolled his hips against Shiro's.

As much as Shiro didn't want to stop touching Keith, he wanted skin contact more, so he pulled on his fly. Keith helped him, worked quickly on ridding Shiro of his pants, immediately followed by his underwear. He was so, so hard already, he tried to push his hips against Keith, whose erection was tenting his underwear.

“Fuck,” Shiro whispered.

Keith pushed him, and he let himself be manoeuvred onto his knees, leaning against his elbow. He saw Keith toss his underwear off the bed, wanted to turn around to see what Keith was packing, but elected not to in the fear that Keith might change his mind if Shiro wasn't giving him exactly what he wanted. If Keith didn't want him to speak, if Keith didn't want him to look, he could do that. He could do that if it meant that after years of disappointment he finally had a chance with Keith, even if it was just this one time.

He moaned unexpectedly loud when Keith pushed a single wet finger inside without warning. He couldn't find it in himself to stay quiet as he thought about Keith's delicate fingers pressing against his backside, inside him, slowly scissoring him open with an abundance of lube. Shiro was a whimpering mess by the time Keith pulled his fingers out and pressed the head of his cock against Shiro's twitching entrance. He was practically sobbing when the tip of Keith's cock slipped inside, slowly followed by the rest of his length.

“Keith,” he whined, long and loud.

This time Keith merely grunted in response as he rutted against Shiro's ass, the tiny movements of his cock enough to make Shiro pant louder.

“Fuck,” Keith sighed, and it was the most beautiful sound Shiro had ever heard.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed; ever since his divorce Shiro hadn't had long-term relationships, hadn't had particularly many flings either, none over the past year. He hadn't touched himself in ages, finding it only irritating in the absence of anything better, anything real with the warmth of another person. And now, he was not only getting the attention he had secretly been craving, but it was from Keith, the same Keith he had been thinking about for years, wanting to hold and cherish. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't woken up in the middle of the night hoping that Keith was there to kiss him gently.

Keith slowly pulled out, then thrust hard, cock hitting Shiro's prostate dead on and hips slamming against Shiro's ass, and that was all.

“Keith,” Shiro sobbed.

His arm gave out and he ended up face first on the bed, the pillow blocking his airways as his cock jerked and spilled his accumulated frustration onto the clean sheets. He was sure that he was ascending to another plane of being, something that overcame the limits of the physical, his body like an exposed nerve in Keith's hold as his mind was gone, probably dripping from the tip of his cock and soaking into the bedsheets.

He was brought back by the sharp tug on his hair as Keith pulled his head up from the pillow.

“Don't suffocate,” Keith grunted.

Shiro couldn't respond, hardly even understood that Keith had said something in words. Keith hadn't stopped fucking him, hard and unforgiving, although missing his prostate, giving him that little bit of mercy. Keith turned Shiro’s head and pushed his cheek against the pillow, pressed on his nape before shifting and taking a bruising hold of his hips. Shiro's legs were shaking, all strength quickly draining out of him, and soon Keith was the only thing keeping his ass up.

“You still with me?” Keith asked panting.

His hips never stopped moving and Shiro was moaning continuously, his sobs turning into screams.

“Shiro?” Keith asked.

His name sounded so good on Keith's lips, so good, perfect, and he responded something nonsensical, not even sure if it was an answer or merely a moan. Keith's cock was so big, rubbing his insides just right, still not hitting his prostate but maybe that was good, maybe that was better, maybe…

“Shiro,” Keith called again, this time closer.

Shiro was breathing hard and it took him a while to gather himself enough to understand that Keith had stopped, cock only resting deep inside Shiro, and was leaning on Shiro's back, hands no longer holding his hips up, and, in fact, he was lying flat on the bed and Keith was stroking his hair, face right next to his cheek.

“Are you with me?” Keith asked.

Shiro whined, but at least managed a nod. He started realising that there was something wet on his face.

“Why are you crying?” Keith asked, voice soft and caring like it once used to be.

Shiro's response was again a whine, managing to somewhat shake his head.

“Is it too much?” Keith asked. “Do you need to stop?”

Shiro shook his head with a whimper.

“Words, please,” Keith said and stroked Shiro's cheek with gentle fingers.

Shiro took a moment longer to breathe and to gather his wits.

“No,” he managed.

“Okay,” Keith said.

And Keith rocked against him slowly, gently, cock barely moving inside him. The movement was rubbing his cock against the bed, quickly forcing him towards another orgasm, but it was too soon, too fast. He whimpered and tried to squirm away, but his body was too tired to make much of a difference.

He tried telling it to Keith but what came out of his mouth was garbled nonsense. It did, however, make Keith stop.

“What is it?” Keith asked, voice so caring that Shiro sobbed just because it soothed his very being. “What's wrong, Shiro?”

It took a long time, but Shiro finally managed to get enough control of his vocal chords to form words.

“Too much,” he stuttered. “It's too much.”

“Okay,” was all Keith said before he was pulling out, slow and gentle.

Shiro was still panting hard and lifted his right arm to turn himself around before remembering that it wasn’t there. Keith had, however, caught up to what he was trying to achieve, and helped him turn to his back.

“Where’s your arm?” Keith asked.

He was positioned next to Shiro, his knees resting against Shiro’s right side.

“Left it,” Shiro managed between breaths, “at the hotel. Didn’t want to be so easily recognised.”

Keith nodded. He lifted his hand but hesitated before letting it fall back to his lap.

“Touch me more,” Shiro said, looking up at Keith through heavy eyelids. “You didn’t get to come.”

“It’s okay,” Keith said. “You shouldn’t force yourself.”

“No,” Shiro said almost desperately. “Was just getting too close.”

The small frown from Keith’s forehead vanished quickly as his eyes widened.

“Oh,” he said, somehow smaller than before. “But I already took the condom off. It was my only one. I don’t… It’s not like I have a reason to keep a stash.”

“Please,” Shiro tried. “I’m clean. I don’t care.”

He reached over his own body to touch Keith’s ribs, sliding his hand down Keith’s skin that was moist with sweat. Keith lifted his hand again, this time placing it over Shiro’s. That simple touch was almost better than anything they had done so far.

Then Keith moved, and Shiro spread his legs as far as he could with his muscles still so tired. Keith fit between them so well, lifted his legs over his arms. Shiro knew he was loud when Keith pushed back inside, but he couldn’t stop his voice. He didn’t even want to. He didn’t want to spend any part of himself on anything other than Keith.

Keith started slowly, rocking his hips gently against Shiro’s ass, but Shiro’s moans seemed to convince him enough to speed up. It wasn’t long before Keith was fucking him just as hard as before, now hitting his prostate with almost every thrust, and Shiro was teetering right on the edge, so close, but he didn’t want to come before Keith did.

Keith had gotten louder too, grunts turning into longer moans and mumbled swears.

“Fuck,” he said and leaned forward, folding Shiro almost in half. “Close. Shiro.”

Shiro watched his face, how sweat had glued his hair over his forehead, a small crease of concentration between his brows. Keith bit his lip, sharp claws digging into Shiro’s legs, a flash of yellow in his eyes as he opened them only to quickly close them again as he came with a growl, deep and animalistic. His seed was filling Shiro, and the idea that Keith was so deep inside his body was exhilarating. Shiro wrapped his shaking hand around his sensitive cock, but Keith slapped it away only to replace it with his own hand, still clawed but just as gentle as ever.

Shiro came with a cry of Keith’s name, his body convulsing almost violently, and he was hardly aware of anything that happened after.

Light was seeping through his eyelids and he opened them slowly. The first thing he saw was Keith’s face, hovering somewhere close by.

“Finally,” Keith said with a small smile. “I was already wondering if I should worry.”

“Uh,” was all Shiro managed to get out.

Keith snorted. The edge of his lips turned upwards, and the sight made Shiro’s heart jump.

Shiro slowly took in his surroundings and the feelings of his body. The bed under him was soft and surprisingly seemed clean. His pelvis was aching, but in the good way. His ass twitched around nothing, no stickiness left behind, so Keith must have cleaned him up while he was out. The thought made his heart squeeze, and for a moment he indulged in the image of Keith between his legs wiping him clean with a warm washcloth.

“You should drink,” Keith said.

Shiro turned to look at him and found him offering a glass of water. Slowly, he pushed himself up, but his body was still too tired to stay upright on its own, so he ended up leaning on his left arm and having no way of taking the offered glass. Keith smiled and chuckled quietly, then leaned forward, wrapped an arm around Shiro's shoulders, and held the glass up to his lips.

“You should have just brought your arm,” he said, voice amused, while Shiro drank. “Having people recognise you is surely less inconvenient than this.”

Shiro laughed and finished the water.

“If I had known I would end up in your bed, I would have kept it with me,” he said.

Keith had turned to place the glass onto the bedside table so Shiro couldn't see the look on his face, but he sure felt how Keith stiffened. When Keith turned back, his face was blank, and he gently helped Shiro lie down again, but the moment Shiro was settled, he turned away again.

Shiro cleared his throat, but Keith had withdrawn into himself, arms now crossed over his chest.

“You know, I,” Shiro began, but then didn't know where to go with it and stopped.

Keith didn't acknowledge the attempt at conversation, and the silence between them quickly grew awkward and heavy. Shiro was almost certain that if Keith hadn't just witnessed how weak he still was, Keith would have made sure he was on his way out of the building by now. Shiro was suddenly thankful for the wild sex for a new reason.

It hurt, his heart stung to know that he and Keith had drifted apart so significantly that he no longer knew what was appropriate to say, what he needed to say to make Keith relax because there was supposed to be no strain in their relationship. In their friendship.

Once again, he found himself thinking about his dwindling relationship with Keith, how he hadn't noticed something was wrong before it was too late. Irreparable, most likely, if he thought of the way Keith had tried to run away when they met by coincidence. It should have been something happy. Old friends reuniting after several years, it should have been met with smiles and pats on the back and friendly laughs at something old that was suddenly remembered. But Keith took just one look at him before bolting. Keith didn't want to talk, didn't even want to exchange pleasantries.

Yet, Shiro also found himself in Keith's bed after Keith fucked him to a different plane of existence. Wasn't that proof enough that not everything between them was lost?

Maybe Keith just wanted it to be.

Shiro frowned as he remembered something Keith had said that continued to make no sense to him.

“Hey,” he said. “What did you mean I keep doing to you?”

Keith didn't gasp audibly, but he might as well. Shiro wished he could see Keith's face.

“Nothing,” Keith grunted.

“Keith,” Shiro said, barely containing the sigh that he wanted to let out.

“No, you don't!” Keith yelled so abruptly that Shiro jumped, causing a painful twinge in a muscle that had gotten a workout it was no longer used to.

Keith had turned to look at him with fury in his eyes.

“You don't get to play the victim here,” Keith said, voice bristled. “You are the one who keeps messing up with my head with your mixed signals! You are the one who keeps ruining my life!”

Shiro couldn't do anything but gape at Keith whose eyes were burning with anger. He was suddenly very vividly reminded of Keith at his wedding, unrestrained tears on his cheeks as he turns away to leave. He had never wanted to see Keith like that again, eyes swimming with pain.

“I didn't,” he tried to say but no words seemed adequate. “How did I ruin your life?”

He winced at how vulnerable his voice sounded. Keith was right: he didn't deserve to feel hurt. He had established that years ago. He didn't deserve to show his pain because he himself was the sole culprit.

He was the one who had first screwed up his friendship with Keith after losing his chance to develop it further.

He was the one who had been too preoccupied with himself to keep Curtis happy.

He was the one who decided to travel around galaxies just to run from commitments, because he had, time and time again, proven to himself that he didn't have the ability to stay with someone. He always ended up ruining it, always said the wrong thing, kept too much to himself, he didn't deserve the attention of someone he would later disappoint by being himself and doing what he always did.

“You can't just keep waltzing in and out of my life,” Keith said. “You can't… you can't first tell me I'm important and then reject me when I finally… well, I mean, I know it wasn't the kind of confession I would have wanted, but I told you. I finally told you and you then gradually pulled away only to later invite me to your wedding after months of silence. Knowing that I love you.”

Shiro wanted to interrupt, but Keith glared at him so angrily that he kept his mouth shut.

“And you can't just tell me,” Keith continued, “that you got divorced right before I found someone to be with, like you need to taunt me with that knowledge while looking at me like I'm still somehow special to you. And you can't just tell me you miss me after two years of avoiding me. You don't get to miss me because you never even tried to stay with me. And you most certainly don’t get to look so fucking delighted to be running into me after four years of avoiding us all.”

Shiro's gaze had gradually been moving across the ceiling as Keith spoke. He was staring at a fixed point in the distance because he wasn't allowed to be sad, he didn't want to cry in front of Keith because Keith was right. Maybe he hadn't noticed doing it, but now that Keith had laid it all out for him to see, there was no denying it.

“I was waiting for you to talk to me,” Keith said. “You never did.”

“Why didn't you talk to me then?” Shiro asked, almost too desperate.

“When? Shiro, when?” Keith asked, voice sharp. “You were always too busy pushing me away. When was I supposed to talk to you?”

And, of course, Keith was right. Keith was right, and he had known it all along. He had never been meant to be happy with someone, he had known it for certain after Adam. Before that, he had had a hunch, all his loves slipping away from him like water from his hands. Adam had stayed for so long he had gotten hopeful but had eventually been proven right. He had driven Adam out of his life just like all his other boyfriends, all his friends, and he had never learned how to stop doing that.

“Shiro?” Keith's voice was hesitant.

“I'm sorry,” Shiro said quietly, hoping against hope that Keith couldn't hear his voice breaking.

He wasn't sure at what point he had lost his fight against the tears, but it was still fine, he could still pretend he wasn't selfishly making it all about himself. For as long as he kept his face turned away just enough, Keith wouldn't notice.

“I'm sorry,” he repeated, immediately regretting it as it opened the floodgates. “I haven't done anything right. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I'm sorry I keep coming back to you, Keith. It's not right for me to do. I have done everything wrong since Adam.”

Keith's throat made a sudden noise, but Shiro didn't turn his head. He could still salvage the situation. He had said too much, but his tears were still invisible to Keith. His voice may have been suspiciously thick, but he could still…

“Shiro,” Keith said, now sitting on his other side with full view of his face. “Did you… did you just say you think you haven't done anything right since Adam?”

Shiro sniffled rather than trying to answer. Keith sighed.

“Okay,” he said, sounding defeated. “Okay. I didn't… Shiro, how can you… This was unexpected.”

Keith snorted.

“Once again you have done it,” he continued. “I was prepared to never see you again since you have pretty much disappeared from Earth and no one seemed to know where you might be. And I was fine with that, because I was really angry with you. I… I did my best to hate you. And here you are now. Suddenly speaking about things that you have probably kept inside all this time. Suddenly making me see that it's more complicated than I thought.”

Shiro sniffled and slowly wiped his cheek with his shaky hand. The tears had dried up, thankfully.

“When was the last time you cried in front of someone?” Keith asked.

Shiro didn't have to think.

“My wedding,” he said. “I cried in front of Curtis because I had lost you. I could have had you, but I was too stupid. And he sat there with me, never trying to coax me into revealing why I was bawling my eyes out on what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. He deserved so much better. He was too good for me.”

Shiro's eyes widened when he realised how much he had just said. He snapped his mouth shut and averted his eyes from the spot on Keith's knee where his gaze had been fixed.

“That was,” Keith said slowly, “almost seven years ago, Shiro.”

There was nothing to say, so Shiro remained quiet. He was starting to regret running after Keith. He should have let Keith run away from him.

“And you…” Keith took a moment to think. “You were crying over me? At your own wedding?”

Shiro didn’t say anything. Keith sighed.

“How long were you planning on staying here?” Keith asked.

Shiro blinked and turned to look up at him.

“You're on vacation, right?” Keith asked. “For how long?”

“I don't know,” Shiro said carefully.

“You don't have anything you need to return to?” Keith asked.

Shiro shrugged.

“Nothing that requires a certain date,” he said.

Keith nodded.

“Stay here with me,” he then said.

Shiro balked at that.

“What?” he managed to force out.

“Stay with me,” Keith repeated. “I won’t take no for an answer, Shiro. You clearly… You need a friend. And as much as I tried to stop caring about you, I am still your friend.”

Keith’s words made Shiro’s heart squeeze painfully. He hadn’t realised it before now, most likely because he hadn’t allowed himself to stop and think for long enough, how lonely he had become. As he had struggled to get his feelings in order, stop himself from hurting as much as not wanting to hurt anyone else, he had somehow slipped far away from everyone who used to matter to him. Who still mattered. And maybe that was why he had distanced himself, because if he stayed, he was bound to hurt them all, and they all mattered to him too much for him to allow that.

“Shiro,” Keith said, and his voice was too soft, it brought a fresh wave of tears to Shiro’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about exactly, but you need to stop it.”

Shiro glanced at Keith through his tears.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this broken,” Keith said quietly.

Shiro squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. He felt Keith’s warm hand on his arm.

“Shiro,” Keith said. “Do you still need to rest?”

“Are you throwing me out after all?” Shiro asked, trying to laugh, but his words were laced with so much self-deprecation that his laughter sounded hollow.

“No,” Keith said. “I just need to go collect my daughter.”

Shiro’s eyes shot open.

“Your what?” he asked.

“My daughter,” Keith repeated.

Shiro was almost ready to accept the possibility that Keith was speaking a different language and that's why his words wouldn't compute. He also inexplicably found himself staring at Keith's belly when Keith snorted, and Shiro quickly snapped his eyes back up, face most certainly that of someone who had been caught staring at something indecent.

“The daughter I adopted,” Keith said, not even bothering to hide his amusement, “after I found her abandoned during a relief mission.”

Shiro blinked stupidly a few times.

“Oh,” he then managed with the smallest voice possible.

“Yeah,” Keith deadpanned. “Oh. She’s with mum.”

Shiro was still at a loss for words, trying to simultaneously take in the information, imagine Keith as a father, and hide his embarrassment over having accidentally implied that he thought that Keith might have somehow gotten pregnant.

“Do you,” Keith asked, suddenly almost shy. “Do you think you would want to meet her? My daughter?”

“Yes!” Shiro replied before Keith had even finished his last word. “I would love to meet your daughter. And… and Krolia too?”

Keith’s lips quirked up.

“I’m sure she has forgiven you for breaking my heart,” he said and laughed. “Don’t look like that, Shiro! I know she would want to see you too. She knows about your disappearing stunt.”

Shiro bit his lip, but Keith didn’t give him time to get self-conscious.

“Time to get up,” Keith said cheerfully. “I really miss Gnachok.”

Shiro slowly pushed himself up.

“Is that your daughter’s name?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “She’s Galra, so mum helped me pick a Galra name for her.”

Shiro was still feeling shaky, and missing his right arm made him clumsier than usual. Keith watched him pull on his underwear with great difficulty, before jumping in to help him with the rest of his clothes.

“I’ve had her for about a year now,” Keith continued talking as he buttoned up Shiro’s shirt. “She’s still a baby.”

Shiro smiled at the way Keith’s voice went soft as he talked about his daughter, giving him a brief description of how he had found her, abandoned as a new-born and left to die. The way his face lit up when he talked about Krolia teaching him how to take care of a Galra baby made Shiro’s heart stumble.

They headed out, Keith still chatting about his daughter, Shiro encouraging him to talk more.

He had forgotten how good it felt to see someone he cared about so happy. He had forgotten how good it felt to simply be around a friend.

He had forgotten that he needed friends.

And it would take him a long time to learn how to be close to someone. It would require a lot of work on his part to start opening up again. He would most definitely encounter pitfalls, he would most definitely try to pull away again, but looking at Keith smiling at him from the corner of his eye awakened the hope he had long since abandoned.

Maybe they would never get together romantically. Maybe they would remain the best of friends. Maybe he would get to watch Keith raise his daughter, maybe Keith would find himself a partner and he would get to be the best man.

Or, maybe one day they would be a family together, walking side by side like this but hands linked together, their daughter running ahead and turning to hurry them.

One day he would be happy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really have much to say. I hope someone laughed at my silly humour!
> 
> Also kudos to the [Galra name generator](https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/voltron-galra-names.php) for Keith's daughter's name.


End file.
